Of Course I was Nervous

Of course I was nervous, I had modelled before, but not often, and always for a class. This was private. And for a guy. He said he wanted to take to draw me with an eye to producing a series of paintings. We arranged to meet, in a cafe near his house. I already had his address. We had a quick coffee, managed some moderate sized conversation, and went to his flat. And he said if I was ready I should undress. I looked around the room, looking for a screen, or waiting for him to say: use my bedroom, or the bathroom, and here's a robe. I had my own towel for this purpose. Ever professional. He offered nothing. So I asked if he meant me to undress here. He said sure. If that was okay.

I did. Not because I was too timid to demand otherwise, but, this is the thing, this is the confessional, because I thought it would be nice, right, ever so slightly erotic to strip in front of him. So. I stripped. Not so fast, but I didn't hang about. Jacket, one of the black wool things I have. Then I sat and undid my boots, pulled my socks off whilst I was there. Then stood to unbutton my shirt. And took this off. He wasn't really looking at me, was on the other side of the room, coming in and out, bringing in paper, pencils, charcoal, this sort of thing. I undid my cords, the straighter ones, so I had a belt on as well, pulled this loose, unzipped, pushed them down. So, just my boxer shorts left. I didn't wait, this wasn't a striptease. I bent and pulled them down and stepped out of them. I was naked. Nude. Standing in this strange man's flat. On his plain wooden floor. I knew also, I was ever so slightly, not aroused, not quite, just - I looked down at myself, and could tell - my penis was ever so slightly swollen, was not as small as it usually is when I am soft, was straighter, just, than usual, longer, heavier. I waited for him.

He finally came and stood in front of me, looking, staring, studying. He came right out with it. I mean, he had already drawn me, he knew my naked body pretty well. He knew my proportions. And what was normal.

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, listen, um, are you, well, you look a little different?"

"What?"

"I mean, excuse me for saying, but your penis looks bigger than it does in the class?"

"Oh, uh, really?"

I make a show of looking down, as if I'd felt nothing. "Really? I don't think so."

"Right. Right. Okay."

There is sensation in my stomach. A sort of nervousness. It bubbles through to my groin. To my tight clenched scrotum. He looks again, he stares. I feel his eyes upon me.

"Except, I mean, it is, you are, it's okay, I don't mind."

And the conversation started to affect me.

"But, well, I need you to look normal, relaxed, the way you look when you stand for the group, completely soft, and, well, small really, this was what I wanted to draw, in particular poses, I wanted a model who had a classical look, toned, firm, not much hair, and with a small little dick, and, I mean, I am sure your cock is slightly, I mean, are you getting a little bit hard?"

I was, the more he spoke, the words he chose to use, I don't know why, the more he looked, I knew I was. My breathing became ragged, sweetly nervous. He was looking down, paper and pencil in hand, just staring at my penis. I could feel myself getting harder. I could feel my exposed cock rising, filling. Without having to look. He suddenly wasn't saying anything. I finally looked down. And the visible proof of my arousal made me more excited. My cock was sticking out, unambiguously engorged. You could see it was pointing out away from my body, away from my scrotum, which was deliciously tight, drawn up, small and round. My penis was swelling. It was obvious.

I looked again, my cock was sticking up vertically in front of me, as thick and long as I ever was, completely, almost painfully erect. I was upright, rearing from between my legs, my cock was rigid, pointing up from my groin, straight, away from my body in a thick dark prong of aroused engorged male sexual organ, exposing the tight wrinkles and seam of my scrotum. I could see myself quivering in front of my belly.

"Rob, sorry, really, I mean, I have modelled, you've seen me, this hasn't happened before."

"Sure. Well. Okay then. We'll have to get rid of that."

"I know, sorry, maybe, if we wait for a bit..."

"Wait? Really? Hmm."

I look at him looking. This is not quite the first time this has happened, that another man is looking at my naked body whilst I am completely erect. But fuck. In this context, a man is staring at my stiff penis. When I really shouldn't be aroused. I feel this thought should be the one to cause some sort of deflation. It doesn't. I look at him looking. And my cock throbs.

"Sam, I can't just wait, I want to draw you, but not when your cock is hard. So. Perhaps you'd like to do something about it, I don't mind if you do that here, quickly."

"Do what?" I know, I am sure I know what he means, but he can't can he? He can't want me to?

"Masturbate, can you please? Can you masturbate quickly to get rid of that?"

And I realise I am considering this. Instead of leaving, dressing, instead of thinking the anti-erotic things, taking the icy-cold shower. I realise the idea of masturbating in front of him, him, is undeniably arousing.

I look down at myself, at my rigid prick, sticking out between us, up.

"Sam? Are you going to stroke that stiff cock until you come? Or not? Quickly?"

"Here? I mean, maybe I the bathroom, should I go there?"

"If you really want to. Do you want to? Or would you prefer to touch yourself here, would you prefer to jerk off in front of me? Stroke your hard dick until you come? In front of me?"

And I reach down and take hold of my erect penis, with him watching, I have rarely felt as aroused, my cock is hot and thick and tremblingly sensitive. I look at Rob, who is staring at my groin, at my hand. I pull my soft foreskin back, slowly, exposing the last part of my swollen member, letting him see the shiny wet smooth bulb of my prick. I pull, I grip my hard stem and stroke my penis, looking at him looking. Fuck. I am masturbating not just in front of another guy, but for another guy.

"Quickly Sam, please. Quicker."

His voice has dropped an octave, sounds ever so slightly hoarse. I realise in a vertiginous second that he is as aroused as I am. I glance at his groin. And see the unmistakeable bulge of his cock underneath his jeans, I can see the larger longer curve of his engorged excited prick. And rub myself harder, quicker. My climax is going to arrive with unseemly haste. My cock is throbbing, deliciously alive. I rub my aching stem quickly, feeling my tight heavy balls slap against my thighs. I don't have the control to slow down, I can feel critical levels of pleasure already building deep within me. I stare, I look between his legs, I am sure his cock has grown some more, has lengthened, I am sure it is bulging more prominently in his lap. I grip my hard shaft, I manipulate my soft tender foreskin over the smooth sensitive flesh of my glans, the pleasure is exquisite, overwhelming, forbidden transgressive unbearable pleasure.

My orgasm builds, I do nothing to try to slow it down, I want, I realise, I want to come in front of him, I want him to watch me coming, I want him to see me spurt my semen out over his polished wooden floor. I am passed the point of being able to control it, I hold the base of my erect penis, holding my foreskin back, breathing heavy and ragged, looking at him look. I stare at the shape of his aroused penis, I think of him looking at me, becoming hard, his cock swelling with excitement as he looks at my nude body, my tight balls and stiff prick. I look at the thick length of his swollen penis. And feeling myself start to come. I glance at myself as I start to ejaculate. I know myself, I know my usual amounts of cum. I watch as the first of five thick creamy white ribbons of spunk leap from the exposed tip of my penis and splash out between us. I clench and push harder, my knees weak, I look at him looking at me come, the second lash of semen thicker than the first, longer, paler, landing almost on top of his bare feet.

I let go.

"Right, okay, if you could stand back a little, and turn a quarter step away, right."

I am still more or less facing him. And my penis is still more or less fully erect. I force myself to concentrate now. I try to will myself down. I am young, but really, not young enough to remain erect immediately after an orgasm.

I see him stand, and glance. Down. I glance at his groin. And see the thick solid length of his still obviously aroused cock. I can see he is still turned on, still at least semi-hard. His penis is pushed down along his leg, looks large, thick. Fuck. I feel myself react, again, again at the knowledge I should not be getting aroused, I should not be getting hard. But I do. I feel myself pulse and skip upwards. I look. My cock is rigid again, vertical, thick and hard.

"Sam, your cock is still erect."

"I know, fuck, I am sorry, I don't know why."

"You do know why, tell me please."

"No, I mean, I don't, I can't..."

"Tell me, Sam, tell my why your cock is still completely hard."

"I can see you are..."

"What? I am what?"

"I can see you cock is hard as well, sorry Rob, but, I can see your cock is stiff."

He looks down at his crotch. We both do. We look at the blatant proof of his arousal. He looks back to me, and we look at the unguarded evidence of my own continued arousal, still jutting out between us. And he puts his paper down on a chair behind him, faces me, stands up, and starts to take his clothes off.

He is looking me in the eye, then down, slowly, deliberately down to my aching cock. I am standing naked in this artist's flat, naked and with another raging hard on, and he is undressing, and, I know, I could easily have dressed, at this point, at any point, and I didn't. I watched. Long forgotten desires kept me in place. He stripped off his shirt, carefully, not slowly, letting me see him expose each part of his body. I looked at his bare chest, smooth, hairless, toned, tapering in to a slim waist. I watched as he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling each half of the zip apart, pushing them down his legs. As soon as he took his trousers off, as soon as he stepped out of them and faced me in nothing but a pair of pale blue briefs I could see more clearly the bulge of his penis, I could see the thick curve of his cock pressing out against the thin material of his underwear, it wasn't sticking out, but I knew he was turned on. I could see his cock, long and thick, pushed down by his tight pants, but swollen, lying flat against his thigh, straight, thick, fuck, he was obviously hard. His cock looked large. I didn't know for sure, still, despite this obvious giveaway, but I had thought before, assumed really that he was gay. So. I was still naked and still visibly aroused in a gay man's apartment. And he was about to strip off in front of me. He did so.

He bent and pulled down his tight blue briefs, I watched him strip, naked, I saw this strange handsome man pull off his underwear, and cause his swollen penis to bounce outwards as he freed it, I watched another man expose his hardening cock, I watched it swing outwards as he stood in front of me, in one movement he was as naked as I was. And I stared. Down. His penis was sticking out now, above his already visible testicles. His balls were large, fat oval protrusions stretching the tight dark skin of his scrotum. His smooth scrotum, like he shaved or waxed, I looked at his naked rising prick, he was circumcised, his glans was smooth and pale, paler than mine, already showing, I could see the tight lips of his meatus, the taut rim of his tender corona. And his cock was still pulsing upwards. I felt, this is the confession, pleasure, tantalising physical pleasure, drug like, sexual bliss. My arousal didn't wane. It increased. I felt that trembling churning excitement in my stomach, in my balls. My penis was rigid, upright, still completely erect. Watching his cock jump up. He was good looking, clean cut, dark hair, clean shaved, his chest was smooth and tight. I think he trimmed his pubic hair. He had a small neat dark brown square above the thick solid base of his penis. And his cock kept getting bigger. He kept looking at me, staring at my stiff exposed penis, as I looked at him, his large balls, he was taller than me, not sure about his age, smoother. And bigger. And this, here it is, it turned me on. This turned me on.

He became fully erect. I looked, I was staring, dry mouthed, I was turned on, seeing him respond, seeing the flagrancy of his arousal, the visual proof of it. And, this took me by surprise, I might have thought I'd like him to be smaller than me, but he wasn't. I was further aroused by the size of his hard penis. The fact he was bigger than me. I felt my mouth open. His cock was huge. I mean, I know am just over seven inches, seven and a half on a good day, when fully erect, when I am as hard as I can be, which I was. And thick enough. Not a bad size, within the average range, perhaps towards the higher end of the spectrum. I looked at his stiff prick. I judged his hard penis was nearly nine inches long. He looked that much bigger than me, and thicker. Fuck. I felt myself start to ooze. He was huge. His shaft protruded thick and straight, displayed thicker ridges and veins than mine, his exposed bulb was fatter, more pronounced. Even the tight lips of his cock opening looked larger, fuller. He stood naked, firm, smooth, completely fucking erect. We both faced each other with bare exposed, rigidly hard jutting members pointing up and out towards each other.

"Well then Sam, what do you like?"

"Like?"

"Yes, what do you like to do?"

"Um, well, I mean, I'm not gay."

"Uh-huh."

"Really."

"Of course you are not, anyway, you are here, in my apartment, and I am gay, I fuck men, I love men's bodies, naked cocks, hard, I love sucking erect cocks, love the taste, the feel, my mouth filling with hot cum. Okay? I love sliding my cock inside a guy's tight asshole, I love being fucked, god, I love feeling a guy pushing his hard dick inside me. I do pretty much everything, I don't believe in rules, or roles. So you are in the apartment of a gay man, a gay male artist, as it happens, you are naked, in front of me, letting me look at you, at your lovely nude body, at your beautiful stiff dick, I am naked, and you are looking at me, at my hard dick. So, we're here, naked together and we are both obviously fucking aroused."

"Well, I, uh, I suppose."

I play dumb a little bit. I want him to carry on speaking.

"You are obviously aroused. You are naked, I can see how aroused you are. So, what would you like to do? You can have a cold shower, or leave, you can masturbate here again, in front of me, which I think I would quite like, we can masturbate in front of each other, until we both come, I like to see you come, or you can jerk off in the bathroom, on your own, if you insist. Or, well, this is where it could get interesting, I can touch you, I can stand closer..."

He stands closer, he takes a step towards me, his stiff member taking small circular jumps as he strides.

"... and hold your stiff penis and masturbate you, until you climax. You don't have to touch me, but you can, you can touch my hard cock, if you like, so we can masturbate each other. Or, I can suck your cock, I can take your penis in my mouth, again, until you climax, I would certainly enjoy that, I know you would. We can go to my bedroom, and we can suck each other's hard cocks, you can take my dick in your mouth, we can use our mouths on each other until we both come. Or, I can fuck you, how about this? I can go to my room, and get a condom, some lube, and I can apply some to my cock, and your ass, and I can fuck you. I can push my hard dick deep inside your tight little ass? You can feel what it is like to have a guy's hard cock inside you. Are you a virgin there? Would you be feeling my hard cock inside your virgin asshole. Anyway. What would you like to do? Oh, I forgot, of course, if you like, you can fuck me, you have a nice looking dick, not huge maybe, but not small either, pretty large I guess, but it looks so fucking gorgeous, just smooth and thick and fucking hard. I would definitely like to feel you inside me, fucking my tight little ass. So?"

I looked at both of us, his larger circumcised cock, my smaller uncut one, and I said it, here it is. I looked at another man's hard cock, in the flesh, maybe not quite for the first time, but here was another guy looking at my erect penis for the first time in such a long while I had forgotten this reaction was possible. I was faint with arousal. And I didn't stop. I had all these options. I could have backed off, or felt as if I was forcing myself, in it for the experience, for the chapter in the memoir. The truth though, my arousal led me.

And I said: "I want your cock in my mouth, I want to see you, I want to see and feel my cock in yours, and I want..."

"Yes? Sam? Tell me?"

Could I say it? Out loud? I looked again, at this naked guy, this bare smooth erect guy. Excitement conducted my words.

And he walked out of the room, I watched his tight pale hairless ass wobble gently as he stepped, and I followed, my cock swayed from side to side as I walked. To his bedroom. He stood on one side. I stood on the other. "Let's get on then."

I did. I lay on his bed, on my side, facing him as he got on, on his side, facing me. We were inches from each other, I could feel his breath on my face, I could feel the heat coming from his naked body. And I could sense his hard cock next to mine, his smooth naked body so close to mine.

"Sam."

"Yeah."

"Touch my cock, please, touch my hard cock, fuck, touch me."

And I did, for the first time, I reached, I looked down at what I was doing, at his pulsing jutting rigid penis, longer than mine, thicker, fuck he was big, I reached and looked, opened my fingers, and touched another man's stiff hot cock, fuck, I felt the heat from his engorged member, first, I felt my fingers graze his soft smooth tip, then I opened my hand and closed it around his huge hard cock. I touched another guy, another guy's erect penis. It felt amazing. There it is. It felt just incredible. Familiar, yet forbiddingly strange. He felt even larger than he looked, he felt enormous, it felt like I had a foot of erect penis between my fingers. Hot, so fucking hard, utterly rigid, covered in his velvety smooth skin. I wrapped my hand around his thick thick shaft, and pushed, and pulled, my fingers grazing his flat smooth belly, opened by the width of his hard stem, held tight by his full warm engorged tissue. I stroked his stiff penis.

This was developing into the theme, we were asking, telling, requesting, a filthily erotic juxtaposing of the polite and the carnal, the decorous and profligate. Still though, I hadn't sunk quite into the moment, I hadn't lost myself in purely physical pleasure, and, I didn't want to. This was a man, not a woman, not the soft giving moist flesh of a woman, this was a guy, tall, strong, muscular, not so hairy, smooth and fresh, but a guy, with a tight ass, a firm broad body. I looked. I felt quivering arousal, at his flat belly, his ripped abdomen and pectoral muscles. This was a man, and I had his hard penis in my hand, his large long thick hard cock.